Monday, January 3, 2011

I Am A Whiner And It's All Good.

I have told my children for years that whining won't get you anything you want. In fact, whining will probably get you a whole lot of two things: nothing and trouble. It would appear that I am, in fact, a big fat liar.

You know why? Because whining got me this:

This is what all the pounding (and sawing and measuring and extra trips to the home improvement store) was for. I whined enough about 2oo metric tons of crapola in my mudroom. I bemoaned the lack of storage. I wailed about the inadequate coat pegs. I whimpered about having no place for the children to put their backpacks, shoes, boots, lunch bags, mittens, hats, cleats, knee pads, helmets, baseball gloves and all the other detritus of childhood. And all of that whining, moaning, wailing and whimpering paid off!! (Note to self: Begin whining about kitchen stove and counter tops, unpainted rooms, and flooring that needs replacing.)

My beloved and my father spent several days last week constructing the cubbies in our mudroom and I am beside myself, absolutely giddy, with glee over them.

I used to dream of having a mudroom. Our old house had a one-butt room--like a closet--that you walked through from the garage. It held our washer and dryer and coat rack and other shelving as well. Anytime you walked through, it was impossible to do it without knocking coats off the wall. It drove me crazy. It was dark and cramped and awful.

When we walked through this house I nearly refused to leave the mudroom. It's double windows, ample space, and laundry sink nearly made me weep. I remember standing in that room, before seeing any of the rest of the house and saying "We are buying this house! I don't care about the rest of it. Buy it! Now!"

And then, after living here awhile, the mudroom drove me berserk because it was just a room with two shelves and a pegged shelf. I don't have any before pictures, because I am too stupid to live, but this might help you:

And now? Now I have this!!

My children are even happy. (I know, crazy, right?) Today they said, as they were hanging up their coats after church, "Ooooh! I have lots of hooks!" and "Man! I can hang a coat, no, TWO coats, a back pack and still have hooks left over," and "Wow! Now company has a place to hang their coats!"

I still need to get another basket for one of the kids because I didn't have enough (these were baskets I already owned) and possibly some kind of tray or liner for where the boots/shoes go, but I cannot complain about one thing. Even the stiffness in my old, out of shape body after I spent four hours painting it. All totally worth it. Sometimes I just go stand in the mudroom and gaze at it and sigh.

Also? It's apparently a really awesome place to hide and scare the bejeebers out of your mother when she is taking the dumb dog outside.

Guilty parties in pink pajamas should watch their little backs.

Now, if you'll pardon me, I have to go sit on the cubbie bench and dream of the next project to whine about.

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